


Of Steel

by detailsinthefabric



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detailsinthefabric/pseuds/detailsinthefabric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin Emrys has been inherently clumsy since birth, and he and everyone else around him has grown tired of it. Arthur Pendragon seems to be Merlin's opposite in every way - graceful, eloquent, and brilliantly gorgeous. To Merlin, he seems absolutely perfect...until he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Steel

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is based on the song "Of Steel" by Say Anything. It's pretty great, and inspired me to finally sign up for Archive of Our Own, which I've been tempted to for awhile. AUs are my way of refusing to accept the Merlin finale. Thanks for reading!

It’s not like Merlin Emrys was a force of destruction that ruined everything in his life.

 _No_ , he told himself, kicking at a small pebble resting all too innocently on the sidewalk, _no. It’s not like that at all._

All his life his mother had smiled down at him and insisted that he was “special.” Not the sort of special where you got on TV and were praised for your talent, but the kind of special where there was a complete lack of hand-eye coordination and every one of Merlin’s limbs seemed to act upon their own free will. The kind of special where focusing and paying attention to oneself was almost an impossibility; self-awareness was an idea foreign to Merlin.

“Your heart is just too big to see over, Merlin, that’s all,” Hunith always insisted with a gentle, patient smile as she bandaged up a six-year-old Merlin’s injury of the day, the sort of smile that made Merlin want to believe her.

Merlin’s mother had barely left his side while growing up because he couldn’t be trusted with a babysitter. Left unsupervised for a minute, young Merlin could easily have gotten himself hospitalized by accidentally falling out a window. This left little time for friends, and Merlin was not only unpopular but also the accidental class clown.

Amazing how things could follow you for years. In high school, Merlin was still an outcast, with few friends, and amazingly attached to his mother. And also still walking into at least three doors a day.

This flaw in his genetic makeup had troubled him often, but it had never gotten him into _too_ much trouble…until today.

_Arthur._

The name flashed through his mind, unbidden, and he swallowed hard. The rest of the school year would no doubt be impossible to survive, no matter how careful he was.

As Merlin reached his apartment building, he sighed and thanked God for small blessings, like how he still managed to make it home. All he wanted to do was ignore his four-course load of homework and nap until he forgot about the whole thing.

For a while, that is.

The trek to the flat felt longer than it really was, and, opening the door, he saw that Hunith wasn’t home yet. He felt relief at the absence of the meddling that would no doubt occur if she had been there, and raced straight to his room and collapsed on the bed.

Merlin wanted to pull the sheets up over his head. He wanted to disappear. He wanted tomorrow to never come.

A sort of exhaustion pulled at his eyelids and he felt himself slowly falling into peaceful oblivion. But the inner peace was short-lived; the house phone started ringing in earnest, and Merlin could feel its volume buzz in his ears. It was too loud to ignore, and the caller was fervent. Merlin reached for the phone plugged in at his side table, his fingers slipping for a mere moment that allowed him to fall right out of bed and hit his head against a table leg.

“Ow…” was the first thing he said into the receiver as he pulled himself up onto his elbows.

“Too many of our conversations begin this way, mate,” said an irritated-sounding voice as Merlin gingerly climbed back into bed and rubbed at his sore temple.

“Will? That you?” Merlin couldn’t help but groan out his words. For someone who got injured so frequently, he had a frustratingly low pain tolerance.

“Of course it’s me! What the hell happened today? The whole school’s talking about it!” Merlin’s one and only friend, Will, had the same sort of disposition as a tea kettle. Although he was forced to develop patience for Merlin’s little accidents, good-natured and even not-so-good-natured mocking was ingrained deeply in their friendship.

“They are?” Merlin’s groan turned into a whimper. Of course everyone knew. It would be good luck if they didn’t, and Merlin possessed no such thing.

“No shit they are! Arthur Pendragon, Merlin! I can’t believe you attacked Arthur _fucking_ Pendragon!” There was a sort of delight in Will’s tone that Merlin did not appreciate at all.

“I did _not_ attack Arthur _fucking_ Pendragon,” Merlin snapped angrily. “For your information, it was an _accident_.”

A derisive snort. “Please, Merlin. Cut the bullshit. Any time you come _near_ a person, it should be considered an attack. You’re a walking hazard.”

Merlin felt a flush crawl up his neck and he buried his face in his pillow. “’M not,” he muttered, his voice muffled in the feather down.

“What? Did you just tell me to ‘go rot’?” Instead of sounding offended, Will sounded overbearingly gleeful.

“I said, _I’m not_ a walking hazard!” There was another snort, and Merlin sighed. Denial, this far into their relationship, was pointless. Will knew exactly how hazardous Merlin’s mere existence was. “Okay, well, maybe I am, but it’s not like he got _hurt_ or anything.”

“Oh, yeah? So what _did_ happen exactly? Because the word around school is sort of mixed.”

That didn’t sound good. “Why? What are they saying?”

“Well, Freya said that someone told her that you were angry at Arthur over something and spit in his eye.” Merlin gaped at his bare khaki wall in horror. “But of course, I know you too well. You are _way_ too socially awkward to do anything _that_ badass. And Sefa told me that she heard that you tripped and head-butted Arthur in the chin.” Merlin winced. “That sounded more likely to me, but then, if you were in class, the likeliness of that happening was overtaken by Gwen’s story that you were sitting in the desk next to Arthur when you accidentally elbowed him in the face. So my bet was on that one. So tell me, Merlin, which is it?”

After a moment of horrified croaking, Merlin released a heavy sigh and said, “None, Will. None.”

“Ah, that’s too bad. I would’ve respected you a lot more if it was the first.” There was a moment of silence where Merlin sensed he was supposed to say something, but simply did not have the motivation. “Merlin? I need details, you know. How did the clumsy little lamb take down the proud, quarterback lion?”

“Please stop with the stupid metaphor,” Merlin groaned. He flopped onto his back, listened to the bedsprings creak under his weight for a moment, and then heaved a sigh even heavier than before. “I’ll tell you, okay?”

~*~

Arthur Pendragon.

He was in Merlin’s sociology class. But even if he wasn’t, Merlin would probably know every detail about him anyway. Camelot Collegiate was nothing without Arthur. He was the main star at spirit assemblies, the topic of every school broadcast, and he turned heads in the halls. He was captain and quarterback of the football team and possessed the most brilliant presence Merlin had ever seen.

Arthur had been around since freshman year, but he had never really been in Merlin’s _life_ until this year, senior year. Before, Arthur was just another fixation of Camelot, like the blackboards or the lockers. But in class, he was a _person_. Merlin had been assigned the seat behind him, and developed a slight obsession with the back of Arthur’s head. He’d become quite endeared by how often Arthur contributed to class discussions, and waited with anticipation for Arthur to raise his hand so that he could hear the rich, melodic sound of his voice and appreciate his impressive vocabulary and way of thinking. He liked the way Arthur didn’t talk much to his peers, despite their vying for his attention, and instead doodled silly little things in the margins of his notebook when he was bored. Arthur’s everyday mannerisms were a whole lot more interesting than the class itself. And Merlin, who was already predisposed to daydreaming, found his grades in sociology quickly becoming the worst of his high school career.

But this was not altogether strange. Arthur was gorgeous and eye-catching and seemed to be placed on Earth by the gods just to be admired by others. Merlin noticed other people staring as well. But no one else had to deal with Arthur’s intimidating closeness. No one else’s line of vision ran straight into his silky-looking hair that gleamed golden in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the nearby window. And no one else was hanging onto the thought that Arthur was a miracle, an actual phenomenon, in that he was exactly the opposite of Merlin in every possible way. He was graceful and confident and naturally intelligent and seemed constantly _present_ in the world, where Merlin was clumsy and anxious and possessed a wandering mind as well as the disposition of a blind mouse.

But this particular day, something in the air had changed. Merlin sensed it as soon as he sat down at his desk. Although Arthur’s effect was powerful over him during class, outside of it he was far from Merlin’s thoughts. Arthur was nothing but a passing interest, like a rainbow, or a parade. And although Merlin was aware of Arthur in every possible way, Merlin was invisible to Arthur. Behind him, he went without recognition, and he was fine with that. They were both better off for it.

But as he sat in his desk, Merlin felt a clench of anticipation in his stomach. And then it him—he was _waiting_ for Arthur to walk into class. He had never dropped to such a low before then, and he felt a bit embarrassed about it even at the time. But when Arthur walked in, he forgot about his discomfort. He felt a sort of happiness, or inner peace, or something, and as Arthur made a beeline for his desk as usual, ignoring the many eyes following him, Merlin found himself grinning. Not really at Arthur; just because he was feeling a little light-headed with the onslaught of his sudden emotions.

But the smile made a difference. Because as Arthur dropped his bag with a thump beside his desk, his eyes caught Merlin’s. And as Merlin’s whole world seemed to stop turning at the deep blueness of his eyes and at the suddenness of the event taking place, Arthur smiled back at him. And then he dropped easily into his desk, his beautiful face looking in the opposite direction, as time restarted again.

Merlin felt dizzy. Arthur had never done that before. This had never happened, and it left Merlin feeling confused and out of place. Arthur had _noticed_ him, which was not aligned with the world order. Arthur was king, and Merlin was like a peasant. Or a servant, maybe. But you had to interact to be a servant. Merlin and Arthur did not interact, and Merlin had been quite positive they never would.

As Merlin’s head spun, he reached for a packet of gum to calm his nerves. Gum worked as a calming agent for Merlin, and sort of a grounder too; it stopped him from daydreaming too much. So he always kept a pack on him for emergencies, or even not-very-emergencies, and he was grateful for it right then.

He chewed and tried to get his head in working order. The bell rang, and the teacher began speaking. Merlin tried to concentrate on the words but they escaped him. He watched the back of Arthur’s head, which was currently resting on his upturned hand as he probably actually listened to the lecture.

Merlin chewed more furiously, the gum already losing its flavour. His mind seemed to be on repeat, Arthur’s smile playing over and over again. Dumb. God, it was dumb, such a small thing. But he couldn’t shut it off.

Arthur’s hair looked as soft as ever that day. And Merlin was suddenly compelled to touch it, stupidly. It always looked touchable, but Merlin had never felt any actual urge to even consider it. And now he wanted it, and now he was imagining it, the feel of it—but running your hands through someone’s hair was a pretty intimate gesture, and suddenly the thought of Arthur’s equally soft-looking lips came unbidden to Merlin’s mind, and he was so shocked, he gasped.

The wad of gum quickly travelled down his throat with the fast-moving air, and he found himself choking. Quietly. No one else seemed to notice his grasping at his throat or the bulging panic of his eyes. Merlin Emrys, Camelot’s invisible man. He took a heaving breath, coughed, and the sticky wad sprang out of his throat canal, out of his mouth, and straight into the golden perfection of Arthur’s hair.

There was a moment where even Merlin didn’t register what had just happened. He simply watched as the gum latched immediately onto thick blond strands and stilled. And for a second, Merlin tried to convince himself that Arthur hadn’t noticed. And for a second, Merlin tried to convince himself that he was asleep at home and this was all just one big nightmare. But in the next second, Arthur’s hand was reaching out to the back of his head.

“What the f—?” Arthur stopped himself, just in time, remembering he was in class. But it really didn’t matter what he had said, because everything had stopped. The teacher had fallen silent, looking at Arthur in confusion, and so were some of the other students. Others who were close by could see the small tragedy and were gasping, and Merlin heard one guy let out a small, nervous-sounding chuckle.

Merlin could not look away. He could not believe this was happening.

“What _is_ this?” Arthur was louder now as his left hand found the wad of gum still staying strong in his hair. “There’s something—”

His hand froze where it was before slowly pulling away, some of the gum following his fingers in strands. He looked down at his hand, and Merlin saw him noticeably shudder, and mirrored the movement. Arthur was out of his desk, quick as a flash, and turned towards Merlin with fury, shock and embarrassment fighting for domination in his expression.

“You did this?” he snapped, now far too loud for the panicking Merlin, who was trying to disappear into his sweater. “Did you put gum in my hair?”

Which made it sound like Merlin had done it _on purpose_ , like his intention was to ruin Arthur’s day, which was the exact opposite of the truth. He had to explain it was an accident; he had to say _something_ …

“N-No…” he squeaked, his voice too small to even compare to Arthur’s, negligible in the situation.

“What the hell is _wrong_ with you?” Arthur cried, cheeks burning, as he grabbed his bag and quickly stomped out the door, the teacher not saying a word to stop him.

The teacher turned back and looked at Merlin, as did the rest of the class. Merlin watched as the teacher grabbed for the seating plan, having no reason to remember Merlin’s name, and somehow that was the trigger for Merlin to snap out of his post-trauma daze and finally sling his backpack over his shoulder and run out the door, hearing a call of “Mr. Emrys!” when he was already halfway down the stairs.

~*~

“You spat _gum_ in his hair?” Will cackled, words barely discernible through his laughter.

“It was an accident!” Telling Will had been like reliving the experience all over again and Merlin could feel a stomach ache coming on from the never-ending horror or what had just happened. He turned his face back into the pillows and considered hanging up.

“Accident!” Will’s laughing would not stop. “A plane crash is an accident! This is – ” Merlin thought he could hear his so-called friend start crying from hysteria.

“Will! This isn’t funny! This is…the worst thing that’s ever happened! Ever!” Merlin was bordering on a different sort of hysteria himself.

“Looks like Goldi will be losing a few locks, eh?” Will made himself crack up all over again until his laughter became just wheezing.

“Will – ” Merlin was about to get angry and start shouting, but he just didn’t have the energy. Finally he felt a tremor go through him and he whispered, “What’ll I do?”

The wheezing stopped. There was silence.

“He’s going to report me. I might get suspended at this rate.” Merlin bit his lip. “I’ll be a marked _bully_ , Will. I can’t believe this.”

There was another moment of silence before Will said, “If you ask me, being reported is going to be the last of your problems. Arthur’s the captain of the _football team_. Not to mention, like, _king_ of Camelot. And everyone already knows that _something_ happened between you. If you’re on Arthur’s bad side—”

“I’m on everyone’s bad side. I know.” Merlin closed his eyes, felt pain everywhere. “Ironic how getting branded for bullying will get me beaten up worse than ever.”

“I don’t think anyone can beat you up worse than you can,” Will said, a forced lightness to his voice indicating the desperation of his joke. After a moment of tension, Will continued, “Listen, Merlin, no matter what happens, I’ll back you up, okay? No one’s going to lay a hand on you without me having something to do about it.”

Merlin smiled despite himself. Will was smaller than Merlin, and had next to no muscle if you stood him up beside Arthur. Merlin tried to imagine Will and his own lanky, clumsy self fighting off the entire football team in combat. It was ridiculous even to the imagination.

“Thanks, Will. I have to go now. Talk to you later.”

Merlin waited a few seconds, impatient to get Will’s undoubtedly snarky reply out of the way, and was surprised when he heard Will say softly, “Take care of yourself, Merlin. See you tomorrow.”

The line went dead and Merlin was too tired to put the phone back in its charger. He closed his eyes, wondering just how doomed he really was, and felt absurd and upset when an image of Arthur’s smile came back to memory. He would never see that smile again. He wished he could never see Arthur again, period. But he fell asleep to the memory of Arthur and his first exchange and to the question of why things could never just work out for him, just once.

~*~

Merlin found himself sprinting to school while the sky was still turning from pink to blue the next morning. As suspected, Hunith had caught on to his sulking, and forced the story out of him. At the end of it, she went, “Oh, Merlin!” which was a very familiar sigh, one that Merlin recognized from countless childhood injuries. It was kind of comforting, considering this one felt like the ultimate accident of all accidents, and yet his mother reacted the same as she always did.

“Well, I expect you to find that young man immediately and apologize! It’s no wonder he misunderstood.” Hunith seemed more upset about Merlin’s concluding statements than the main event.

“ _Apologize_? To Arthur? Oh, Mum!”

“Merlin Emrys! In this family, we apologize for our mistakes!” Hunith did not realize that Merlin was disagreeing with the ever-seeing-Arthur-again part, not the apologizing part. “Now I expect you to march over to the school first thing in the morning and find him!” There was a pause where Merlin pouted, distractedly scratching at the table, before Hunith continued, “Before he reports you.”

Merlin’s mother was a very practical woman.

So that morning, Merlin allowed himself to be dragged out of bed and have a half-eaten breakfast and get pushed out the door with insistences that Arthur was probably “a very nice boy, and it would all work out.”

Why did Hunith always seem to forget that nothing _ever_ worked out for Merlin?

Merlin stopped at the doors of Camelot, where he finally lost his nerve. He faltered for a moment, panting in the cool autumn air, and suddenly very powerfully wished for Will to be with him at this moment, like he had promised. But Will was probably still sleeping, like Merlin wished he could be, and had no idea. Merlin was his own company for now.

Slowly, he went up the steps. He told himself he was being silly. Arthur probably wasn’t even inside. This early, there were the teachers and students for early morning practice, and football practices were always in the afternoon, for everyone to see.

He took a deep breath and went through the solid oak door. Camelot was a very old school with a stone exterior and a large football field; it was like a castle from the Dark Ages. Beautiful, but still the most miserable and stagnant time period of human life.

The foyer was empty and the cafeteria doors were closed. Merlin went straight for the main office, not wanting to take any chances that Arthur was already in there, mouthing off about Merlin’s escapades in sociology. A few office workers looked up as he peeked in, but there seemed to be little activity this early in the morning. Merlin smiled nervously in their general direction and quickly made his exit.

What to do now? Should he wait outside the office for when Arthur came in to complain about him? Or should he run back home and hide under his covers and just skip school today? A very difficult decision indeed.

Merlin thought about the pile of homework he had abandoned for the sake of being miserable yesterday. He thought he should probably get that done, and he still had an hour until first period. If he didn’t see Arthur that morning, he could track him down at his locker. All the athletes’ lockers were on the first floor, football players being closest to the field exit. Although this idea seemed exceedingly awful, it was practical. Hunith would be proud.

Merlin gave in to his miserable fate and tromped towards the library. As he pulled open the door and scuttled inside, his eyes scanned over the large room for danger—and found it almost immediately.

Besides a single librarian who was tiredly scanning in books behind the counter, there was only one person in the room, slumped at a table, reading a book and taking notes. And Merlin knew the back of that head too well for there to be any mistake—Arthur Pendragon, this early in the morning, casually working away. What sort of luck was this?

For a moment, Merlin was absolutely frozen. But he knew he couldn’t just give up this chance. His mother would kill him. At least Arthur had no obvious bald patches or anything. So he took another deep, deep breath, and went up to Arthur’s table.

“Um.” A brilliant start.

Arthur turned, pulled out of his work so quickly he looked dazed for a second before his eyes focused on Merlin and he slammed his hand down against the hardwood.

“You!” he shouted, and it was goddamn lucky that no one else was in the library besides the librarian who gave a pathetically quiet “shhh” in protest.

Merlin cringed, although Arthur didn’t grab him by the front of his shirt or break anything or even get out of his chair, like Merlin had half-expected him to.

“Ah. Yes. It’s me.” Merlin was a gifted orator.

“Why did you stick gum in my hair yesterday? What the hell did I do to you, exactly?” Arthur’s anger was like an oncoming storm, and the clouds were only starting to roll in.

“I-It was an accident!” Merlin weakly protested, although at least it was louder than yesterday in the quiet of the library.

“An _accident_?” Arthur almost laughed, except it sounded more like a growl.

“Yes! I swear it, on my life! On my _mother’s_ life!” Hunith had it coming. “I-I was choking, and I panicked, and I spat it out, and it went too far, and it just…I mean, I had no control…I would’ve never done it on purpose, never, I’m not that sort of person, I just…” Merlin felt tears burning at the corners of his eyes and he felt even more pathetic than before. “I’m just so, so sorry!”

There was a period of silence where Merlin avoided Arthur’s gaze but listened carefully to the sound of his breathing. It was shallow, but it was slowing, and Merlin waited for the words that would either make or break him.

“Partner up with me,” Arthur said. An order, not a request.

Merlin looked up in surprise and tried to express his confusion in his eyes. Arthur’s own seemed to be gleaming with a sort of mischief that surprised and worried Merlin.

“For sociology,” Arthur continued. “The assignment we were given yesterday.” Oh. Merlin really needed to listen in class more. “Partner up with me for it.”

“Um, okay?” Merlin’s voice came out frustratingly high-pitched and he wanted to hit himself.

“And then,” Arthur went on, a crafty smile spreading across his face that made Merlin’s heart beat faster for two completely different reasons, “do it yourself and submit it.”

“What?” For a second, nothing registered. And then everything did. “You can’t do that! That’s…academic dishonesty or something! And I told you it was an accident!”

“An accident that took three hours and two other people to get out of my hair without any permanent damage,” Arthur said, smile replaced for an icy expression. “Or I suppose I could just get reporting you for bullying out of the way and get on with the rest of my day…”

“What?” Merlin repeated, and was taken aback by Arthur’s dead seriousness. His outrage overtook his awkward social skills. “My school life is ruined anyway even if you don’t do anything! And you’re _blackmailing_ me? On top of being an inconsiderate clod, are you stupid too?” Arthur looked stunned. Part of Merlin was stunned too. The other part couldn’t stop ranting. “As if you can treat people like that and expect them to let you walk all over them! I have my dignity, you know. I don’t care about _getting suspended_. So you can just forget it, you ass!”

There was another moment of silence, this time Merlin refusing to look away. Every one of his senses felt alive with righteous fury. And although Arthur still looked taken aback, his forehead furrowed thoughtfully.

“I suppose you’re right,” he conceded. “How about this then: you do the assignment and any other project that comes up in social studies, and I won’t report you, I’ll clear things up with the teacher, and start spreading word that nothing happened between us. How’s that?”

Merlin felt his inner dragon die in him as he looked straight into Arthur’s confident baby blues.

“Th-This isn’t a business deal!” 

Arthur smiled. “Yes, it is…ah, what’s your name?”

Merlin glared at him. “Merlin.”

Arthur’s smile became wide and wicked. “Yes, it is… _Mer_ lin.” The name rolled off his tongue, and it was distracting as hell. Merlin lost all will to fight. “So is it a deal or not?”

Shit.

~*~

Merlin was so upset his fingers shook on the keyboard as he typed. _Give it to me tomorrow_ , he said. _I want time to edit_ , he said. _Can’t trust people who choke on their own gum_ , he said.

“Arthur Pendragon, you…you _fuckhead_!” Merlin shouted, slamming down on his keyboard before remembering that it was easily breakable and moving on to pound his fists on his mattress. The neighbours thumped angrily against the wall, the universal indicator for “shut the fuck up before I come in there and make you.” Merlin ceased his onslaught and sat for a minute before letting his head fall into his crossed arms.

He couldn’t believe he used to sit in class and be enamored with the back of Arthur’s head. He’d felt badly about the gum thing, he really had, but he’d expected to be ignored or shouted at, not _blackmailed_. Arthur brought a whole new level of cruelty to the table that Merlin wanted nothing to do with. He was glad Hunith was coming home late today so she wouldn’t get a chance to see how red his face had been since that morning—red with endless _rage_.

That afternoon, Arthur didn’t even talk to him. He’d plopped his bag down, sat down in the desk like he’d always done, and didn’t say a word. Like the whole morning exchange hadn’t even happened. And although the students stared at them, no one ever approached Merlin about yesterday. Arthur’s influence was terrifying.

The phone rang. Merlin knew it would be Will, who he had been avoiding all day out of shame from his defeat that morning.

He let it ring.

~*~

“Here.”

Arthur jumped a bit as the essay slammed down on top of his laptop keyboard. He turned towards Merlin and smirked.

“Well, please, don’t dress it up for me,” he quipped. Merlin just stared at him. Arthur’s outline was a little fuzzy. Merlin had been up late trying to get the stupid sociology essay done, and got up early to be able to meet Arthur incognito in the library. He was in no mood to exchange snarky remarks.

Arthur picked up the paper, scanned briefly over the front page, his eyes flickering back and forth between the essay and Merlin.

“You look terrible,” he finally commented, and Merlin would’ve been angry if he wasn’t so numb.

“Didn’t you hear? I was up late writing an essay for some asshole.” Arthur snorted, although it sounded more amused than he’d probably intended.

“Come on then,” Arthur said, getting up and walking towards the exit.

“Where are we going?” Merlin asked, stumbling after him. There was no fight; only desire to sleep.

“Castle Grounds. Hurry up.”

~*~

Castle Grounds was the local coffee shop and was very popular among students. As Merlin and Arthur tumbled in, Merlin was relieved to find that only a few morning stragglers were there. It was still too early for most of the student body.

Even so, those who were there stared at Arthur as he walked up to the counter. Merlin stared back, knowing he used to be one of those admirers, and felt slightly sick because of it.

Arthur’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Merlin? What do you want?”

Merlin’s mind was still muddled and it took him a solid minute to decide. “Mm…a small latte, please?” he told the college worker at the counter, who smiled kindly at him and nodded.

Merlin glanced back at Arthur to see him watching him. For a moment, Merlin felt something like an electric shock travel up and down him, and then it was gone.

“Better make that a medium, Lance,” Arthur told the young barista, who laughed and nodded his assent before going off to make their drinks. “You look like you’re going to fall asleep standing up,” Arthur continued more quietly to Merlin. “God knows what you’ll do sitting down.”

Merlin wanted to ask, _What do you care_? But all he could manage was, “Hm.”

Lance showed up again with their drinks, sliding it across the counter, and pronounced far too cheerfully for this hour, “That’ll be five fifty, gents.”

“Right,” Arthur said, taking out his wallet and handing him the money. Merlin stared at his hands as he slid the bills across the counter, and it took ten seconds for his brain to catch up.

“Wait, why are you paying for me? You don’t have to do that!” Merlin was suddenly awake, more awake then he’d ever been, drilled into him from years and years of watching his mother’s financial independence. Her voice rang in his ears: _Never owe anyone anything, Merlin. It’s a poor way to live life._

“Stop your flailing!” Arthur snapped, slapping away his hands from reaching into his bag. Lance was chuckling good-naturedly behind the counter. “You’re so out of it, you won’t even be able to find your wallet!” And then, so quietly Merlin almost missed it, “Besides, it’s the least I can do.”

“No, the least you can do is get me suspended,” Merlin muttered, feeling more irritated now that he was awake.

Arthur was silent.

~*~

“You call _this_ an essay?” Arthur roared, flipping through the pages so furiously they were almost tearing.

“Well, what would _you_ call it?” The caffeine made arguing easy and reflexive. God bless coffee. Not to mention that Arthur was a natural irritant.

“I’d call it absolute crap!” Arthur slammed the roughed up essay down on the small table between them. “Merlin, did you even _read_ the chapter in the textbook?”

“Textbook?” Suddenly, Merlin felt very small.

“Yes! The chapter on _gender studies_? You know, the topic you clearly have _no clue about_?” Arthur sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “We were supposed to write about the development and effect of gender roles in our society, _not_ a sentence for every branch of sociology in existence. Do you even know how to structure an essay, Merlin? Where’s the introduction? Or the conclusion, for that matter? And you need more specific topic sentences.”

“I…uh…well…” Merlin was definitely blushing. He knew he was. He felt nothing but heat despite the cool temperature outside.

“Forget about it. It was my mistake for assuming that you were intelligent just because you were quiet.” Merlin blushed harder, could even feel the tips of his ears turning red. Arthur sighed again, but this time his eyes were softer as he admonished Merlin. “Well, we’re still partners. How do you feel about meeting after school and doing some brainstorming?”

Merlin stared at Arthur in embarrassment and confusion. Yesterday, Arthur had been a demon straight from hell. Today, he was offering to work with Merlin, possibly get him a better grade. What the shit?

“Are you serious?” Merlin asked, shuddering at the thought that the answer might be no.

“Of course I am! The assignment’s due Thursday! Both our necks are at stake here. And it’s my fault for recruiting someone as _useless_ as you. So are you going to invite me over or am I going to have to find another partner after you get suspended?”

Well, _that_ made more sense.

~*~

Merlin felt jittery all over in sociology. He couldn’t stop staring at Arthur; it was even worse than usual. He wanted to be angry with him; he wanted to bite his face off and throw things and maybe even drop sociology for good. But Arthur was still as alluring as ever in the afternoon sunlight, and he seemed to radiate charm. Merlin’s mind kept wandering back to the frankly rather fuzzy morning where Arthur had treated him with an almost gentleness, and how some of his actions even seemed apologetic. None of that made sense with the Arthur that manipulated Merlin into doing his work for him, or with the stoic Arthur who sat before him and seemed to deny Merlin’s very existence.

Another silent period.

Another long hour of marveling at the mystery that was Arthur Pendragon.

~*~

“Merlin.”

Merlin jumped back as Will’s face appeared around his locker door. The last bell had rung and Merlin was buzzing with anticipation for Arthur’s coming over. He had frankly forgotten about Will and his probably endless list of questions, and although he felt bad about it, he had no time to answer any of them.

“Will, hi, sorry, got to run,” Merlin said all in a rush, grabbing his backpack and slamming his locker with a decisive end to the conversation before turning to leave.

“Merlin!” Will grabbed his arm which stalled him just enough to change his mind about running out on his best—and only—friend. “What the hell is going on? Where have you been? And why aren’t you answering your phone?” When there was a lag where Merlin started stuttering out pieces of excuses, Will’s tone dropped into what Merlin recognized as him covering up hurt and asked, “Are you avoiding me?”

“What? No, Will, no! Of course not!” Merlin bit his lip and leaned against his locker. He hadn’t been avoiding Will, but saying, _I just forgot about you_ , sounded just as bad, if not worse. “I’ve just been…busy, is all.”

“Busy?” Will scoffed, and his face turned a light crimson. “It takes me days to track you down and ‘I’ve been busy’ is your excuse? You know, Merlin, you can be a real ass sometimes.”

Now Merlin felt his own cheeks alighting. But Will wasn’t done.

“It’s Arthur, isn’t it? He’s giving you trouble, isn’t he?” Will seemed to forget about Merlin as his expression clouded over at even the thought of Arthur. “The whole school was abuzz with the gum story, and the next day it was just completely gone, erased from the minds of the student body. And I see Arthur walking around, looking as smug as a bulldog with some fresh kibble. And I haven’t even seen a wink of you. He’s blackmailing you, right?”

Merlin blinked at him. The words, “Why would you think that?” tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Seems like the type, doesn’t he? So smarmy-looking.” Will scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Makes me sick. And you’re so easy to pull one on, Merlin.”

“He’s not smarmy-looking!” Merlin protested, and then, realizing too late, “And I am not!” Will gave him a skeptical look, which made irritation spike in Merlin’s gut. “Listen, Arthur hasn’t _done_ anything to me. He didn’t report me, and gossip dies fast. I’ve just been busy, okay?”

There was an overly long moment where Will looked Merlin up and down, as if deducing the truth from his posture, the slight twitching of his fingers. Finally he sighed and shook his head again.

“Okay. If you say so. Not my business anyway. You walking?”

It was a pretty obsolete question, as Merlin _always_ walked home since his mother was so busy with her job and they lived so close by. But Merlin didn’t want to walk with Will today, especially with Arthur waiting for him somewhere.

“Um…actually, no,” Merlin said, and when Will’s eyebrows shot up, he quickly plowed on. “My mum’s picking me up. I have a dentist appointment.” To make it more believable, he added with a roll of his eyes, “Obviously the highlight of my day.”

Will still had this worried look on his face but gave a pained smile and said, “That probably _is_ the highlight of your day, you lowlife. Can I expect a call from you later?”

Merlin beamed a little too brightly back at him. “Definitely. See you.”

He quickly stepped down the rapidly emptying hallways to avoid Will’s look of utter dejection. His words from the other night echoed in his head— _no matter what happens, I’ll back you up_ —and wondered why he hadn’t told Will about what was really going on with Arthur. Why had he defended him so ardently? Especially when he was so upset with the situation himself?

Merlin already knew the answer, even though it made his stomach clench with self-disgust.

He wasn’t upset with the situation.

If he didn’t know better, he would almost say he was…excited.

~*~

“Oh, well, if it isn’t _Mer_ lin. I hope I haven’t dragged you away from anything terribly important.”

Merlin glared at the blond quarterback as he dropped his bag in the stands where Arthur was currently sitting watching football practice.

“Because, you know, it _must_ have been important if you made me sit here for twenty minutes after I faked sick to miss practice just to work on the assignment that _you_ messed up in the first place,” Arthur continued at Merlin’s sullen silence, watching his expression with a sadistic smirk plastered on his face.

“Shut it, you prat. _You’re_ the one who’s the cheating bastard here. And you are not, by any means, my top priority in life.” It was most likely the truth. Probably. Anyway, Merlin was too much of a walking thundercloud to care either way.

“Ooh. Kitty found his claws, eh?” Arthur grinned wider at Merlin’s death glare. “Well, whatever. Let’s get going. I’d like to be home for dinner.”

Merlin held out a hand to stop Arthur’s move to get up. At the questioning look, he explained, “We can’t go just yet. I don’t want to run into Will on the way.”

A crease of concern appeared on Arthur’s brow, which was much more adorable than it should’ve been by any right. “Who’s Will? A bully?”

“My best friend,” Merlin sighed, slumping back against a plank.

“Friend?” Arthur’s eyes widened until Merlin was lost in a sea of stunned blue. “Why, Merlin! Are you… _ashamed_ of me?” He put a hand to his chest in melodramatic offense.

“No. Well, a little.” Merlin found himself grinning at Arthur’s suddenly very sincere pout. “But that’s not the issue. He just doesn’t…well, it’s complicated.” Arthur was staring at him with an impressive level of attention, so Merlin changed the subject. “Aren’t you ashamed of me?”

“Obviously not. I’m sitting here with you letting all my friends gawk, aren’t I?”

Merlin looked out at the field where a few of the players were, indeed, glancing at them frequently from under the shade of their helmets.

“To be fair,” Arthur continued, “they _do_ think you’re my temporary driver.” Arthur held up a hand to stop Merlin’s shocked spluttering. “But that’s only to fit in with my sickness excuse. Either way, I would be fine being seen with you.”

“But you always ignore me in class!” Merlin barked, not wanting to be put in the role of the more insecure person. Arthur’s cheeks took on a light shade of red.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” he asked, meeker than before. “What is there to talk about?”

“Decent people at least say hello,” Merlin pushed, determined to have the upper hand.

Arthur met his eyes, and there was an expression on his face that Merlin didn’t recognize. “You really don’t think highly of me, do you?”

Merlin opened his mouth, reconsidered, and shut it. He stared into Arthur’s open eyes. They seemed so volatile, so sensitive to his answer.

 _You have no idea how highly I think of you_ , he thought miserably. _You don’t know how much I wish I could be like you, could know you just that bit more. You don’t know how I see the grace in your movements and the intelligence in your words. You don’t know how much it scares the shit out of me, because I barely know you. You don’t know me, but I think the world of you. And that doesn’t make any sense._

“It should be fine now,” Merlin interjected, cutting through the lingering silence. “We can go.”

He turned away from the piercing effect of Arthur’s eyes and didn’t wait for the sound of his light footsteps behind him.

~*~

“Ouch!”

Thinking too much was just no good for Merlin, and getting caught up in the moment had briefly caused him to forget about this fact. He didn’t keep a lookout for potential accidents in his path, and had walked right into a lamppost. How had that even snuck up on him? Where had he been looking? All he could remember was Arthur, who was traipsing after him like a shadow.

“Are you all right?” Not so shadow-like now, the blond boy was suddenly right beside him, voice encased in a worry that Merlin was not used to after so many years of humiliation.

“Oh, yeah.” He grinned dopily at Arthur, and maybe he was a little out of it, but that probably had nothing to do with the lamppost. “Minor casualty.”

“My God, you really are a clumsy oaf, aren’t you?” Now _that_ sounded more familiar. Merlin winced back from a prodding hand that had appeared at the side of his head. “Hold still,” Arthur insisted, voice suddenly stern and not young at all, and Merlin found himself automatically freezing. “Let me see…”

Arthur’s other hand came up to slightly hold down Merlin’s head so he could see the mark on his forehead. It was only this way that Merlin realized that Arthur was a bit shorter than him, and that he smelled slightly of citrus, and that his hands were a little calloused with a strong grip. And Arthur took steady breaths that puffed warmly against Merlin’s downturned face, while Merlin usually breathed in short gasps and stutters. Arthur was just naturally warm, in fact; he radiated heat in a way that Merlin’s body never had. And Merlin almost wanted to lean into that inviting touch and lose himself in it, but that was wrong…no, just downright invasive…

“How long is it until we reach?” Arthur asked, interrupting Merlin’s inappropriate train of thought.

“Oh. Should only be about three minutes more.” Merlin fought to regain control of his mental faculties as Arthur released him and he straightened, losing that brilliant warmth and a totally new sense of security.

“Alright. I can get a better look at it then. Looks like you may have a bump.”

Merlin gave him a pained smile. “Like I said, minor casualty.”

~*~

Merlin found himself twitching nervously as he opened the door to the flat. Arthur didn’t comment, but he was clearly interested, his eyes wandering over every detail of the small apartment. He lingered over a framed picture on top of the bookshelf near the door.

“Is this you?” Arthur asked, pointing at the grinning, reedy boy in the photo. That was taken at least ten years ago.

“Uh, yeah,” Merlin replied, feeling minutely uncomfortable by the way Arthur’s gaze roved over it.

“It’s obvious,” Arthur continued with an oddly fond smile on his face, “by the three Band-Aids you have on.”

Merlin blushed as Arthur chuckled and turned his attention back to him.

“Speaking of which, how’s your head?”

Merlin automatically reached up and ran his fingers over it. Arthur had been right; there was a rather impressive bump already starting to swell.

“It’s really nothing,” Merlin insisted, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ve had worse in my sleep.”

“I assume that’s quite literal,” Arthur said, and suddenly he was right up close to Merlin again, lightly passing a thumb over the injury. “We should put ice on this. It’ll stop the swelling.”

Merlin was unable to react as Arthur walked deeper into the apartment, asking frequent questions like, “Is this the kitchen?” and, “Do you have icepacks?” and, “How do you _not_ have icepacks when you’re such a klutz?” Five minutes later, Merlin was sat at the counter with Arthur gently pressing a bag of frozen peas to Merlin’s forehead. It was strange. Merlin had never been coddled like this, at least not so far back as he could remember. After so many accidents, people stopped caring, expected him to just get up and walk it off, to the point where he himself expected it. Arthur taking such care over this small a thing made his whole body feel warm and fuzzy.

“If it gets too cold, you should wrap it in a towel. And only take it off for twenty minute shifts or you’ll slow the healing process,” Arthur said, very strict and parental again.

“Thanks,” Merlin replied, taking the peas from Arthur’s hand, watching as it retracted with notable reluctance. “You’re good at this.”

“Football is not a gentle sport, Merlin,” Arthur said shortly, his gaze still locked on Merlin’s forehead. His hand locked over Merlin’s. “Press it down firmer, like this. There, you see? Now you won’t be completely hopeless the next time you walk into a street sign.”

Merlin flushed again, shaking Arthur off. “It was a lamppost.”

“That’s even worse.”

There was a moment of peaceful silence where all Merlin could manage to do was flick his gaze between the counter and Arthur, who was still watching him with a doctor’s precision. It was so weird to have someone’s complete attention and concern.

 _But not a bad weird_ , Merlin thought to himself with a twitch of a smile.

“So…assignment?” he asked finally, pulling himself out of the kitchen chair.

“Right,” Arthur said, looking surprised, and Merlin wondered if he had forgotten why he was here.

“The computer’s in my room, if you want to look it up—”

“Textbook first, Merlin, remember? _Textbook_.”

~*~

The evening was surprisingly productive. Merlin was constantly distracted; however, Arthur seemed to take this as a personal challenge, using his single-minded determination to keep Merlin on track. They read the textbook chapter over several times until Merlin was sure he had it ingrained in his memory. They sketched out a rough draft and discussed what real-life examples they wanted to use. By the time they got around to actually starting the essay, it was seven o’clock, and Hunith had come home.

“Merlin! Come put away the groceries!”

Arthur looked up in surprise from where he was sprawled across Merlin’s bed. Merlin, who was hunched over his desk looking up recent news stories, met his gaze with an apologetic shrug.

“Just a minute!” he shouted back. “My mum,” he explained to Arthur.

“Yes, Merlin, I figured that,” said Arthur with a roll of his eyes. He sat up and started getting up. “Guess we’d better go help her.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” Merlin exclaimed, feeling like he was repeating this statement far too often.

But Arthur was already out the door, and Merlin heard his mother squeak in surprise at the handsome stranger. Merlin sighed and reluctantly shut his laptop before following suit.

“Merlin!” said Hunith in a half-scolding, half-delighted tone. “You didn’t tell me you had a guest over!”

“It was sort of a last minute arrangement,” Merlin explained, and Arthur shot him a look. “Um, Mum, this is Arthur. He’s my…my partner for this sociology project we’re doing.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Arthur with a nod of the head and charming smile, the kind that made Merlin’s stomach flip-flop. “Do you need help?”

“Oh, no, no, you don’t have to do that!” cried Hunith as Arthur reached for the nearest grocery bag. Arthur shot Merlin an amused smirk before they got to work, Arthur being introduced to their various cupboards and shelves, their refrigerator arrangement. It felt odd, like Arthur was a new resident. Even though this was sure to be a one-time thing, Merlin reminded himself, and for the minute he allowed himself to think about it, his heart sank.

After all the packing away was done, Hunith announced that she would start on dinner. “You should stay, Arthur! We’re having lasagna.”

“Oh, well, that’s a lovely offer, but I promised my father I’d be home an hour ago,” Arthur said with an apologetic smile. He sounded so sincere that it made Merlin curious if he really meant it. Arthur’s gaze shifted to Merlin as he continued, “Another time, maybe.”

Merlin could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He swallowed hard and forced himself not to overreact. “I’ll walk you downstairs.”

“No need.” Arthur brushed off the offer casually, but when he moved to put on his shoes and go out the door, Merlin followed. “You’re like a lost puppy, you know that?”

“Well, ‘lost puppy’ is certainly an improvement from ‘clumsy oaf,’ so I’ll take it,” Merlin replied, grinning at Arthur’s snort of amused disbelief.

When they reached the exit to the building, Arthur paused with his hand on the door.

“You know, Merlin, you’re really not as bad a partner as you seem,” Arthur said, giving Merlin that sincere look again that drove him up the wall.

“Wow, that was almost a compliment,” Merlin joked, trying to maintain his cool despite the warmth quickly enveloping his whole body.

“Don’t go too far,” Arthur snapped back, but in the period of quiet that followed, his eyes were soft. “Thanks for having me over. I…enjoyed myself.” Arthur smiled with what looked like reluctance, and Merlin tried to stop the blush that was attacking his cheeks. “Uh, but our essay still isn’t done, and it’s due in two days…”

“Ah, crap!” Merlin slapped a hand to his forehead and hissed when he accidentally slapped the bump from earlier. He waved off Arthur’s startled, “Careful, idiot!” and continued, “I forgot! A plumber’s coming over to fix our showerhead tomorrow. It might not be the best place to work on anything. I was planning on avoiding it all evening actually, head over to Will’s.”

Arthur’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. “Well…we’ll figure something out. I’ll see you tomorrow, Merlin.”

“Sure. Bye.” As Arthur pushed through the door and took the first few steps into the late evening, Merlin was sorry to see him ago. He quickly grabbed the door and shouted after him, “Are you sure you’re okay to walk?”

“Certainly more than you are!” Arthur shouted back, and the light chuckling that followed and slowly disappeared into the cool night made Merlin feel as bubbly as a glass of champagne.

~*~

Hunith was giving that knowing smile she had when Merlin walked back into the apartment. He sighed, knowing he was in for a long talk.

“So _that_ was Arthur Pendragon, hm?” she said, positively beaming. “Your supposed ‘project partner’? And when, exactly, did that happen?”

“Yesterday,” Merlin sighed. “We talked, and things escalated from there, and now we’re just working on a project together. It’s not a big deal, okay, Mum?”

“Hmm. So talking to him worked, huh? He ended up being a nice boy like I said? Where’s the ‘thanks for the advice, Mum’? Where’s the ‘I’d be lost without you, Mum’?”

“Thanks for the advice, Mum. I’d be lost without you, Mum,” Merlin repeated in monotone. He was still undecided on whether Arthur was a nice boy or not. The situation seemed skewed beyond recognition.

“So…you two seem to be getting along really well,” Hunith continued, her voice sing-song innocent.

“Yeah. We get on all right.” Did they? Not really. Arthur seemed to switch moods at the drop of a hat. But then, to be fair, so did Merlin.

“Do you like him?” Hunith said, and there was no kidding around in her tone. Hunith had never been good with subtlety.

“He seems like a cool guy—”

“Don’t be coy, young man. You know exactly what I mean.”

Merlin bit his lip nervously. Hunith—and Will, for that matter—had known for a long time about Merlin’s preference for men. But Merlin had never really had a cut-and-dry _crush_ , and besides which, Arthur was on a whole different planet altogether, for far more than just that reason.

“I don’t know. We barely know each other. And I don’t see how he’d have any interest in me,” Merlin admitted, shoulders slumping.

“Oh, Merlin,” Hunith sighed, and there it was again. The infinitely patient motherly signal for _why are you like this?_ Why do you have no grace, no confidence, no natural talent? A question for the ages.

“It’s not a big deal. I just don’t want to overthink it,” Merlin explained.

“Well, I can understand that.” Hunith seemed even more disappointed than Merlin, though.

Merlin got up to go into his room.

“What are you doing?” Hunith called out after him, a question that usually irritated him, as the answer was often “nothing.”

“I have to give someone a call,” Merlin replied.

~*~

When Arthur walked into sociology the next day, Merlin thought nothing of it. He had gotten unfortunately used to being ignored by day, sort-of-friend by night. But instead of slumping into his desk immediately like usual, Arthur slammed his bag down on top of his desk to get Merlin’s attention.

“Come over to mine,” Arthur said, direct, his gaze maddeningly unwavering, as Merlin’s flickered between Arthur and the curious eyes of the students around them.

“What?” Merlin stuttered, more disbelieving than confused, but Arthur gave a long sigh and roll of his eyes.

“I _said_ , come over to my house after school, _Mer_ lin,” he repeated, his tone mockingly patient. “We need to finish that project, and no one should be home.”

It was more of an order than an invitation, but Merlin was starting to get used to Arthur’s bratty way of speaking. And just the idea of entering into Arthur’s life, even a little bit, and being alone with him in an unfamiliar place, gave Merlin butterflies.

“Okay. If that’s all right with you,” he said shyly, averting his eyes.

“I just _said_ it was all right with me. God, Merlin, don’t you ever listen?”

But when Merlin looked up, Arthur was smiling as he sat down.

~*~

Will was still by his locker when Merlin went to find him after school.

“Will!” he called, breaking into a light jog at the sight of his friend.

“Merlin!” Will chirped back with unusual enthusiasm. “Are you all set to come over or do you have to stop by your locker still?”

Merlin’s smile faltered, and even at that light twitch, Will’s expression changed to one of damp anger.

“You’re ditching me again, aren’t you?” he said, deadpan. Merlin felt the tips of his ears redden, but he refused to back down without giving the excuse he had prepared in health studies.

“It’s not that, it’s just the plumber canceled, and I really need a nap,” Merlin explained, sounding as apologetic as humanly possible.

“You could nap at my place,” Will said, and Merlin could tell he was rearing for an argument, that infamous temper of his starting to flare.

“Will…” Merlin said in that warning tone of his, the one that indicated, _Come on, don’t make trouble_.

“Are you going to walk with me then?” Will asked, and Merlin stuttered out a “no” just as Will imitated Merlin, exaggerating his sometimes high-pitch, “No. Well. And why is that? Is your mother coming to pick you up, despite her always working the late shift at the clinic? Do you have another dentist appointment? Or a doctor’s appointment? Have you tried a gynecologist yet?”

Merlin felt himself flushing ear to ear, whether out of embarrassment or anger, he couldn’t tell. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? So what if I’m busy for a few days? We can hang out later.”

“It’s not the ‘busy’ part that bothers me, Merlin, it’s the lying.” As Merlin opened his mouth, Will rushed on, “And don’t you dare say that you’re not lying, Merlin, because that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for too long and you’re a bloody awful liar. What the _hell_ is going on?”

Merlin almost wanted to tell him, but he couldn’t. He imagined the face he’d make at Arthur’s name, the grimacing, the anger. He didn’t even know how to justify Arthur’s blackmail, not even to himself. And how did one talk to their short-fused best friend about their crush on the guy he disliked the most in the entire school? It was impossible. Until Merlin could figure out himself, he wanted his feelings, and his strange relationship with Arthur, to stay mum.

“I don’t know what to say, Will,” he muttered finally, feeling guilty and knowing he looked it too. “There’s nothing going on. Nothing that’ll matter to you.”

“If this is your ass-backwards way of telling me that I somehow don’t care about you, then you can fuck right off,” snapped Will, working his way towards a shout, slamming his locker shut with a loud bang. Merlin winced and felt his eyes sting. “I don’t get you, Merlin. I really don’t. We were best friends last week, and this week it’s like you’ve changed your mind. If you don’t want me around, then just fucking tell me, because I’m getting pretty damn tired of listening to your piss-poor excuses.”

“God, Will, it’s not like that,” Merlin said, but Will was already walking away, taking strong, fast steps, revitalized by his righteous fury. “Will!”

Merlin’s eyes burned like a bitch but he refused to cry. Not here. Not in school. Not when he was about to meet Arthur.

Why was Will getting so upset over nothing?

But then, if Will had turned around and treated Merlin the same way he had treated him this week, how would Merlin feel?

 _You’re a klutz even when it comes to friendships, you dick_ , he heard Will’s voice sound in his head, but usually Will laughed, his teasing friendly, joking. This voice was cold, hard, upset.

Merlin rubbed at his eyes until the hurt cooled just a little bit. Then he went to meet Arthur.

~*~

“God, what happened to you?” Arthur was sprawled across the bleachers again, but the field was empty today. No football practice.

Merlin’s eyes were sore, and he knew without having to look in a mirror that they were bloodshot to hell. But he certainly didn’t need Arthur to point it out to him, almost as certainly as he didn’t need Arthur’s company right now.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice softened at his silence. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Merlin said, and besides his throat sounding a little congested, he may have been able to pass it off.

“You are not.” Arthur would have almost sounded angry if it weren’t for the way he tugged lightly on the sleeve of Merlin’s hoodie, ushering him down to sit beside him. “Have you been crying?”

“ _No_.” Merlin may have sounded overly offended, but he couldn’t find himself in it to care.

“Okay. Then did you accidentally get orange juice in your eye somehow because that’s what it looked like and I wouldn’t put it past—”

“Will and I had a fight,” Merlin finally blurted out, tired of this route of teasing and positively bursting with how mad he was at himself.

For a moment, Arthur was silent, and for once, Merlin resisted looking at him. He put his head in his hands and just let himself feel shitty. Truly, he shouldn’t even be here. Arthur didn’t want to hear this, and he should’ve gone after Will. Will was more important, had been there for him for years, and he had chosen some dumb classroom crush—who was also as good as a bully—over him. In fact, he should get up right now, and…

An arm wrapped itself around his thin shoulders. And then Arthur’s voice was in his ear, warm and comforting: “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Merlin trembled, and he still didn’t want to cry in front of Arthur, but if things continued this way, he was bound to. Arthur had thrown his whole outcast life off-kilter by smiling at him, and that was simply unfair.

“It was my fault,” Merlin responded, voice wobbling. “I’m the worst friend in the world.”

For a moment, Arthur’s arm tightened around him, and then he said tentatively, “So Will’s your friend?”

“Yeah. I told you that, didn’t I?” Merlin attempted to sniffle discreetly and shifted away from Arthur’s grip so he could look at him more clearly. Arthur’s face was a bizarre shade of red, and for the first time, he wouldn’t meet Merlin’s eyes. “Why’re you asking?”

“I thought…The way you talked about him, I don’t know…” Arthur blushed harder, and it was far too endearing to see his usual solemn and studious persona fall apart. “I thought he may have been…your boyfriend…or something.”

Merlin stared at him, his eyes wide, and then he started giggling. He felt it start to get louder and hardier, until he was having a fit of uproarious laughter.

“Stop laughing!” Arthur tried desperately to make himself heard over all the noise. “I was wrong, okay? Get over it!”

Merlin put a hand over this mouth and tried to muffle the stream of amusement still trying to make its way out.

“S-Sorry,” he giggled, tears in his eyes—tears of laughter, a refreshing change. “It’s just…Oh, the _idea_ of Will and I dating! He’d be traumatized if he ever heard that!” Imagining his face almost got Merlin started all over again. “No, no. Will is far too straight for anything like that.”

“And you?” Arthur asked, suddenly serious all over again, and Merlin found himself completely off-guard for it.

“Me?” he said, and he considered lying. Arthur might treat him differently if he knew. It had happened before, and it had been awful. But Merlin was tired of all the lying and how much trouble it had gotten him into with Will. He didn’t want to poison his budding relationship with Arthur. So he was honest. “Not so much.” He smiled weakly, tried to appear confident, and failed.

Arthur looked at him for a second, just looked, blue eyes masking any immediate reaction he may have had. Then he turned away. “I see.”

That was it? _I see_? Silence fell, and Merlin felt completely uncomfortable, almost regretted saying anything. But if Arthur didn’t want to know, he shouldn’t have asked. Merlin had just told the truth. Anyway, it’s not like he’d admitted to his perhaps-more-than-mild crush on Arthur or anything.

“We should head off now,” Arthur said, breaking the silence. He got up and headed off in a direction only he knew. Merlin sat for a second or two more, contemplating the situation with a bite of his lip, before following after him.

~*~

Arthur’s house was _massive_.

Massive and _beautiful_.

In contrast to their “days of yore” high school, the Pendragon residence was sleek and modern-looking, all white and angular with large windows and a distinctly Greek feel. The tropical garden that surrounded it was almost ridiculously luxurious to Merlin’s money-practical eyes, the garage a large pathway that led to their enormous backyard. Merlin knew of this area, had gone past it once or twice, and Will always talked about it with distaste— _the bourgeois area_ , he called it—but Hunith referred to it as the chic part of town, desire glazing over her eyes. And Merlin could see why. He was captivated by just the _outside_. He could see Hunith falling in love with a house like this.

He looked over at Arthur, who was not looking back, but instead making his way up the front path with focused determination. So Arthur was gorgeous, athletic, smart, _and_ rich.

This could not be real life.

“Merlin, hurry up or I’m shutting the door.” Arthur was as snarky as he always was, but this time he also sounded a little embarrassed. Without comment, Merlin jogged through just before Arthur could slam the door on his fingers. “Careful!” Arthur scolded, and took Merlin’s hand to examine it, but Merlin was too distracted to even inform him that it was his fault in the first place.

Compared to the modern outside, the whole place looked like an antique; the foyer itself was impressive, with a large chandelier and patterned marble, and a long, winding staircase right out of _The Sound of Music_. Merlin gaped at the mahogany side tables piled high with fake fruit and expensive-looking vases. Arthur slipped off his shoes and Merlin followed suit, padding quietly after him into the kitchen.

“Mother of _God_ ,” Merlin whispered, overwhelmed by the paintings, the marble countertops, the large amounts of china on display. Even the fruit stand was impressive, with its fancy, detailed structure.

“You’re too easy to impress,” Arthur muttered, and yup, he was definitely embarrassed. Merlin smiled, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. It was a sign of trust to invite him over, he recognized that now.

“Sorry, I won’t make a fuss. But to be fair, you could’ve given me some warning,” Merlin said, cocking an eyebrow, and at that, he attempted to casually sit in a ridiculously luxurious leather chair. Arthur was watching him, looking half-amused, half-relieved.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” Arthur said with a shrug. “It’s not like it’s my house or anything. It’s my father’s.”

Merlin shifted a little, watching Arthur’s expression carefully. He’d only heard Arthur even mention his father.

“What about your mother?” Merlin asked, hoping it wasn’t a loaded question.

Arthur took in a deep breath, grasped at the back of the chair next to Merlin’s. Merlin knew immediately that his hoping was for nought. “She died when I was born,” Arthur replied with his usual casualness, but this time was different. Merlin could see the cracks in the cover-up, the hurt where he tried to make it seem like there was none.

“Oh, Arthur. I’m so sorry.” And Merlin was—he could feel a dull throb deep down, a swelling of sympathy.

Arthur shrugged. “Not something to be sorry about. You can’t miss what you never had, right?” But when he looked away, Merlin could see that his eyes were wet. Arthur _did_ miss her, although he was trying desperately not to.

“Yeah, maybe,” Merlin said agreeably. When the silence came, he almost felt grateful for it.

“So, what about you?” Arthur finally spoke, straightening a little. “What happened with your dad? You never talk about him.”

Merlin bit his lip, and it was his turn to paint on some faint courage. “He walked out on my mom when she got pregnant with me. Don’t know why. Don’t even know what he _looks_ like. Not that I care.” He swallowed hard and pushed all the dark feelings away. He didn’t need or want them.

Arthur was pensive for a moment, until he finally said, “Anyone who walks out on you and your mother doesn’t deserve your caring, Merlin.” When Merlin looked up in surprise at the unconventional response, Arthur gave him a sympathetic smile. “You and your mother are so much alike. I doubt you’re much like your father anyway.”

Merlin blinked, and his vision went blurry. The tears he had been holding back all day, back with a vengeance. He’d always wondered—did he inherit the fuck-up gene from his father? Did his father trip everywhere, hurt himself, hurt everyone around him too? Sometimes the question haunted him, just like his conversation with Will that afternoon. Just like his father, he had hurt the person he cared about the most. Just like his father, he had abandoned Will without a second thought. Maybe his father had just found someone that interested him more than Hunith and her unborn child, like Merlin had found Arthur. Maybe he just didn’t have it in him to care and understand, like his mother.

But here, in this moment, he believed Arthur. He saw himself for a minute through Arthur’s eyes—bumbling, naïve, but sweet, kind, a willingness to share whatever he had to give—and a tear fell, dizzyingly fast, before he even had time to notice. And then another, another, until he was crying so actively there was no energy to spend on being embarrassed about it.

“Don’t cry,” said Arthur, and it sounded like a plea—a note of worry warped his voice and Merlin knew, instinctively, that Arthur thought he had said something wrong.

Merlin had heard many times, “I’m sorry,” and, “oh, that’s too bad,” and one time (from Will), “what a wanker” as responses to the depressing story, but this…this was the perfect thing to say. The thing Merlin didn’t even know he needed to hear.

“Thank you,” he whispered between sobs, and he allowed himself to cry into Arthur’s shoulder, to let foreign yet familiar arms wrap around him, to allow a hand to stroke his back and comfort him, without shame or doubt or worry. He breathed in the distinct citrus scent and felt completely safe for the first time in a long time. Will, his father, his mother, his self-doubts and his fears, all faded along with his tears, to be replaced by a single person.

_Arthur._

~*~

“What’s the point of a conclusion, anyway? You just repeat everything you already said. Seems stupid to me.”

“Oh, so is _that_ why you left it out in your first draft? If you can even call it that.”

This time, it was Merlin’s turn to lie spread-eagled on Arthur’s bed. It was huge, a king-size, and so ridiculously lush that Merlin’s felt like a wooden plank in comparison. The sheets were velvety and the feather pillows felt like clouds.

“I could fall asleep here. No, I could die happily here. How do you ever leave this bed?” He started running his arms along the bedding, snow angel-style.

Arthur was watching him with an incomprehensible expression on his face. “Stop that. We’re almost done here. Don’t go getting distracted now.”

Merlin wanted to pay attention, he really did, for Arthur’s sake, for his grades’ sake. But his eyelids were heavy and a part of him didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to separate from Arthur for even a moment.

“After we’re done this essay, what happens then? Do we go back to the way we were before?” The worry had been tugging on him all night, and now he was just tired enough to finally say it out loud.

Merlin was worried he’d have to explain what he meant, but Arthur seemed to understand right away. “Well, we can always talk after class. Go out for coffee. It’s not like we’re getting a divorce, Merlin.”

Merlin rolled onto his side so he could look at Arthur more directly, and not to his surprise, Arthur was giving him his full attention. Merlin loved that about him. He was so dedicated to everything he did and everyone he talked to.

“Are you planning on accepting my mum’s dinner invitation any time soon?” he asked, feeling bold.

Arthur blinked. “Why, do you want me to?”

Merlin’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Arthur blushed and turned away, looking back at his laptop. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, and Merlin got a good view of the back of his head that he had grown so fond of. It was then that he realized how he must have sounded, so eager like that. They were barely acquaintances, and here he was slobbering over the idea of Arthur coming over to his house again.

Merlin cringed and started making excuses. “It’s just, well, my mum really liked you, and company is always nice, I mean, and I feel like you did most of the work on the project, it’s the least I can do—”

“Merlin, I am so sorry,” Arthur said, cutting him off abruptly, and the effect of his words was immediate and powerful. Merlin froze and his concentration had never been so sharp as it was on Arthur at that moment. “I’ve wanted to apologize for awhile now. That I blackmailed you into doing this assignment over a silly accident…It was awful and selfish of me. I really am sorry for troubling you. That you’ve put up with me for this long is nothing short of a miracle.”

For a moment, Merlin couldn’t think of anything to say. He was completely taken aback. Having spent a second night in a row with Arthur, he had almost forgotten how their working together had gotten started in the first place. He considered telling Arthur that he didn’t regret it, that he’d forgiven him, that although he’d been angry at first he was long over it now. But instead what came out was, “Why did you do it?”

Arthur turned to look at him over his shoulder, blue on blue, heart to heart. He looked reluctant to share, but Merlin really wanted him to. Wanted to listen in payment for when Arthur listened to him. He only hoped he could offer the same amount of comfort.

“My father…” He sighed, raked a hand through his hair, then continued. “My father has very high expectations of me. I’m taking a full load of advanced courses, while also spending most of my afternoons and weekends at football and student council. I’ve started coming into school early mornings to get my homework done. At home, I just feel so under pressure, all the time. To be honest, when you came in that morning, I was mid-reading for English and also partway through my chemistry homework, and I’d had an argument with my father the night before. He said I had to raise my average. I’d almost completely forgotten about the gum thing by that point. When you started talking to me, all I could think about was that I could get sociology out of the way to get everything else done. So I used you. And it was the most awful thing to do, there’s no excuse, I know. And I really am sorry, Merlin. You didn’t deserve it.”

Arthur let out a heavy breath and looked away from Merlin, suddenly bashful. And as Merlin lied there, thinking about how perfect prince Arthur Pendragon wasn’t such a perfect prince after all, he felt real, true sympathy for Arthur. He thought about the love and encouragement he’s always gotten from Hunith that was absent from Arthur’s home life. And he realized that while he’d spent time envying Arthur of his excellence in everything, the truth was Arthur just didn’t have the luxury to be anything less.

Merlin found himself reaching out a hand to run it through the golden hair he’d daydreamed about in class. Arthur tensed at first, then automatically leaned into the touch with a happy noise that caused a shock to run through Merlin’s entire body. Gently, without breaking the contact, Merlin slid himself off the bed and onto the hardwood floor beside Arthur. Shoulder to shoulder, Merlin started stroking back Arthur’s hair in an affectionate pet, a method he hoped would relax Arthur and at the very least assure him Merlin wasn’t upset.

“He doesn’t see it,” Merlin finally said in almost a whisper. The large house suddenly seemed very quiet for just the two of them, the moment too intimate. “Your father. He doesn’t see how special you are, schoolwork and athletics aside. You’re a good person, Arthur. A great person. You care for people even when you don’t need to, you help others without question, you’re responsible and you’re dedicated to everything and everyone. You were sort of an ass to me, true.” Arthur snorted indignantly and Merlin smiled. “But you more than made up for it, making time for me, and helping _me_ with my writing skills. I forgive you, a thousand times over. And for anyone to make you think that you’re not good enough? _They’re_ not good enough for _you_.” Merlin’s hand sidled down to Arthur’s neck and rubbed gently at the pressure points there. Arthur hummed and leaned his head back against the mattress, half-closed eyes on Merlin. From up close, Merlin could see that they were watery, catching in the lamplight. Merlin smiled slightly and added, “No offense to your dad, of course.”

Arthur actually threw back his head and laughed at that and he was so bright and beautiful that Merlin could only watch. And when he looked back, eyes sparkling cheerily, he chuckled, “You give a long, serious speech and then say something like _that_. Honestly, Merlin, that’s just so… _you_.”

Arthur’s blue eyes were hopping with life when they met Merlin’s, but when he glanced down at Merlin’s arm, the end of which was still lightly playing with his soft hair, Merlin froze.

 _What am I doing?_ Talk about being caught up in the moment. Merlin’s heart chose that moment to start beating in a frenzy, and he cursed his absent-mindedness. But when Arthur looked back up at him, he had that incomprehensible expression on his face again. But from this close, Merlin could see his pupils going wide, his eyes traveling over Merlin with attempted subtlety, his breathing picking up speed from an open mouth. And that’s when Merlin realized—Arthur _wanted_ him. Wanted him in a way that made Merlin stop breathing and his heart feel like it was about to burst.

So instead of pulling away, Merlin pushed closer. His hand went back up in Arthur’s hair, and in the small gasp that followed, Merlin saw an opening, and took it.

At first, he attempted being gentle, gave Arthur room to pull away. His lips lingered gently on Arthur’s, and they exchanged breaths as easily as they exchanged words, and Merlin’s eyelashes lightly skimmed Arthur’s cheek. It was only when Merlin shifted so that he was on his knees and leaning over Arthur that Arthur seemed to come alive, pulling Merlin on top of him so that he was spread out over Arthur’s lap, and lowering his lips back to Arthur’s without more than a second to breathe.

Within moments it was easy to tell that Arthur had experience. The kissing got heavy quickly, and Arthur’s tongue found Merlin’s, danced over it, forced it into activity. Every movement of one was mirrored in the other; when Merlin moaned, Arthur quickly followed suit, and it sent tremors throughout Merlin’s whole body until he was panting every time they separated.

Even with all the activity, he wasn’t prepared for when, while pulling at Arthur’s hair in the desperation involved with a dream coming true, Arthur moaned only one thing: “ _Merlin_ ,” and dropped from Merlin’s lips to chase after his neck. And at the first suck, Merlin was more turned on than he ever believed possible, and he had to shift on Arthur’s lap to avoid completely embarrassing himself. Arthur’s hands traveled up the back of Merlin’s shirt until his hands were resting against bare skin, warm, warm hands heating up every part of Merlin.

When Merlin felt Arthur gently bite down on the side of his neck, he gasped so hard he reflexively bucked up against him and gasped, “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur” so many times it turned into gibberish—nothing anyone could understand but Arthur. And Arthur’s lips and teeth released Merlin just in time to give the most luxuriously sexy moan Merlin had ever heard, and it made Merlin positively frantic, one hand pulling at Arthur’s hair, the other running up his sweatshirt with what felt like no control of his own.

 _We have to slow down_ , Merlin thought to himself, _or I won’t be able to stop._

But then he made the mistake of looking away from the ceiling and back down at Arthur, who separated from Merlin’s neck just in time to meet Merlin’s eyes, like a reflection. And Arthur’s lips were bruised red, his pupils so wide Merlin could only see a ring of ocean blue; Arthur flushed, his carefully combed hair wrecked to all hell. And at the sight, Merlin felt a moan escape him that was so loud and sexual that he felt wanton and not the least bit shamed of it. Arthur gave a raspy chuckle at Merlin in shambles and nipped playfully at Merlin’s ear.

“Stop,” gasped Merlin. “You have to stop, or—”

_I can’t be held accountable for my actions._

But then suddenly they both heard it. The slamming of a door. The front door.

“Arthur!” It was the voice of an older man. A fatherly voice.

Merlin froze—his automatic reaction to stressful situations—and looked down at Arthur, whose eyes were wide with absolute undisguised horror. Merlin considered how they looked, him sitting in Arthur’s lap, covered in hickeys, Arthur looking more wrecked than a porn star sitting in an afterglow. Merlin knew he and Arthur were thinking the exact same thing:

_We’re going to get caught._

“Oh, shit!” Arthur hissed, and it was the first time Merlin had ever heard him swear. “Shit, shit, shit!” Make that the first, second, third and fourth time he’d ever heard him swear.

Merlin clambered out of his lap and ran to the mirror.

“Arthur! Are you here?” Uther called.

“Yes, Father! I’m coming!” Arthur shouted back.

“Oh, God,” Merlin groaned, wondering at his bitten pink lips, his mussed hair, and the dark red hickeys that Arthur had left behind.

“Hairbrush!” Arthur shouted, and Merlin turned just in time for the brush to hit him right in the nose.

“Ow…” he said, holding his injured nose while simultaneously reaching to pick up the fallen hairbrush. Arthur quickly went over to him, his hair back in its state of perfect grooming.

“Oh, God, Merlin! Are you okay? I’m so sor—”

“ _Arthur!_ ” his father bellowed from downstairs. Uther Pendragon was clearly not a patient man.

“Brush, brush! For God’s sake!” Arthur went from caring nursemaid to tyrannical dictator in point five seconds.

Merlin pulled the brush through his hair, once, twice, until it was in its usual state of disarray. Next thing he knew, Arthur was putting a short, red scarf around his neck, tying it carefully to cover up the hickeys.

“Good idea,” Merlin said, relieved that he wouldn’t be caught by Arthur’s dad with two neon signs of their make-out session on his neck. Then he thought about being caught by his mother with them. “Do you mind if I borrow this for awhile?”

“You can keep it.” Something in Arthur’s eyes flashed, and it made heat coil in Merlin’s belly again. “I like how it looks on you.”

“Arthur, _don’t_ —” Merlin whined, feeling all too desperate to touch Arthur again, make him release that happy moaning sound again…

“Arthur, what is the meaning of this?” Uther cried, storming in just as Arthur was stepping a reasonable, unsuspicious distance away from Merlin. “And who are you?” he asked, turning his attention to Merlin like a laser.

“Sorry, Father. This is Merlin, my project partner for sociology. We were just finishing up.” Arthur’s voice was so cool and unwavering that even Merlin almost believed him, if it weren’t for the still-tingling proof on his neck.

“Project?” Uther considered the discarded laptop and essay notes on the floor. “I see. Well…Merlin, was it? Well, Merlin, isn’t it a bit late to still be out on a school night?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I was just heading home,” Merlin said all in a rush. No wonder Arthur didn’t want to cross his father. The man was incredibly intimidating.

“Will you be okay to walk?” Arthur said, repeating what Merlin had asked him earlier, but he seemed sincere instead of mocking.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Merlin said easily, ignoring Arthur’s worried looks.

“Are you sure?” The genuine concern in Arthur’s voice was so touching. Worth a kiss. Worth several kisses. Merlin glanced over at Uther. Maybe not.

“The boy says he’s fine, Arthur. Why don’t you just leave it be?” Uther said. Arthur gave a reluctant nod, shared a look with Merlin that made him feel all fuzzy inside.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Arthur offered, and Uther gave an approving nod at his son’s manners. Merlin smiled nervously at him as he and Arthur walked past. Uther did not return it.

As soon as they were outside, Arthur breathed out a sigh of relief.

“I can’t believe that happened,” he said, half-amused, but still looking mostly just shocked.

“I can’t believe we got away with it!” Merlin cried, and Arthur laughed with a nod, his hand slipping into Merlin’s as if it had always been there.

“Even if we did, I wouldn’t regret it,” Arthur admitted somewhat shyly, his cheeks red in the dim outdoor lighting.

“Yeah, me neither,” Merlin agreed, a ridiculous grin feeling like it was permanently plastered on his face. Then he snapped up in surprise. “What about the essay? We didn’t finish!”

“I can write the conclusion tonight,” Arthur said, waving dismissively.

“Are you sure? But you’re so busy!” Poor, overworked Arthur. Merlin would write a thousand conclusions for him if he thought it would help.

“It’s no big deal. Like you said, it’s just repeating what you already wrote. Just no complaints if it’s not poetic as you’d like, alright?” Arthur smiled as Merlin laughed at the impossibility.

“Okay, I promise. I should head off now. See you tomorrow?” Merlin hated the way his voice went up high, like he doubted Arthur. He really just doubted his own role in their relationship. How did he even get so lucky? What god of fate had smiled down upon him? Was it like a gift receipt for all the years of trouble he had dealt with?

“Yes, of course.” Arthur seemed confident in enough in his answer, that it made Merlin feel confident too. Merlin turned to walk away, but Arthur grabbed his scarf before he could get too far. It slipped a little, exposing one of the hickeys, and Merlin blushed heavily at Arthur’s wicked grin. “You didn’t kiss me goodnight.”

Merlin was reluctant. “Are you sure your father won’t come bursting outside?”

Arthur was unimpressed. “Get over here, you plonker.” Merlin was expecting a kiss on the cheek. What he got was gentle presses from Arthur’s lips on his forehead, his nose, and finally, his mouth. Merlin responded a little on the last, even though he knew he should be pulling away. Arthur whispered against his lips, “We’ll talk about this tomorrow?”

“This”? What _was_ this? It was beautiful and Merlin wanted it more than anything but he still was having trouble believing this was happening, that Arthur was willingly nuzzling Merlin’s cheek with his nose and whispering sweet things in his ear. Nothing felt real.

But he nodded. He nodded because he wanted Arthur to be happy. He nodded because he _wanted_ to talk, figure things out. He nodded because he wanted Arthur, period, most of all.

“I should go,” Merlin said, even his voice coming out reluctant.

Arthur nodded, breathed heavily against him. “Yeah. You should.”

Merlin smiled as widely and as cheerfully as he possibly could to ease the tension and the sharp pang that came with walking away. But in the end, he managed to escape Arthur and his charms, and the night air was cool, relieving, and carried a sharp tang of promise.

~*~

Sitting on the bleachers with Will during lunch the next day, Merlin felt truly at peace inside and out. He watched Arthur throw around a ball with his teammates, their food abandoned in favour of activity. He was reluctant at first, worried that Will might turn dangerous at the news, but Arthur had approached him that morning just to say that he wanted to be there for Merlin in case anything went wrong.

It was sweet. Stupid, but sweet.

“So you’re telling me you’re _dating_ that _absolute wanker_?” Will’s dark blue eyes were wide as saucers. It would’ve been funny if he wasn’t constantly insulting Arthur at every turn.

“Yes,” said Merlin, firmly.

“After he _blackmailed you_ into doing his homework for him?” Will was leaning in close, still in disbelief, not yet in a rage, which was progress. Arthur looked up and narrowed his eyes at Will’s close proximity and his obvious lack of enthusiasm over the situation.

“Life is strange,” Merlin sighed.

“No, Merlin! No! _You’re_ strange! Going after a guy like that! I can’t believe you!” There was the outburst Merlin had been expecting. But it was relatively harmless, considering.

“Will, you barely know him. Once you get to know him better, you’ll change your mind.” Or not. Will was pretty stubborn. But Merlin didn’t want any more ruffled feathers than there needed to be.

“Is this your roundabout way of saying that I’m going to be spending a lot of time with him?” Will narrowed his eyes. He was cleverer than he let on.

“It’s a definite possibility,” Merlin said honestly. No more lying with Will. Will deserved the truth, no matter how mad it made him.

“Well, great. Just dandy. If he makes even the slightest move to hurt you, I’ll cut off all his pretty blond hair.” Will was grumpy, but he was taking it surprisingly well. A threat was a good sign—acceptance.

Merlin smiled gratefully at his friend, bumped his shoulder. “Thanks, Will.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” The bell went, its quiet echoes managing to reach the football field. People started packing up, going back inside. Will stood up. “Well, come on, you harlot. Time for class.”

Merlin stood too quickly, the toe of his boot catching on a step, sending him flying face-first into the dirt. The result was dizzying, although there wasn’t too much pain besides in his chin.

“Oh, God, Merlin! Again?” Will was still angry from the earlier subject matter. Others who had seen were laughing a little too loudly.

Merlin looked up to see a hand being held out to him, tanned and calloused. It was sun-warm when he took it, strong in its support. Merlin’s eyes met Arthur’s, always full of that concern that no one else seemed to share.

“Are you okay? That was a pretty fantastic fall, even for you.” Arthur was running a thumb over Merlin’s bruised chin, leaving tingles in his wake.

“Minor casualty,” Merlin replied, waving it off.

“I’d hate to see what a major casualty is,” Arthur said.

“It usually involves some sort of brain damage,” Will helpfully chimed in.

Arthur sent him a suspicious look, but ended up chuckling. His hand found Merlin’s, and together they walked back into the school building.

Merlin looked at Arthur and Will, and knew that Arthur had been right the night it all came together. He was nothing like his father. He recognized what was important, and he was just smart enough to not let go.

Merlin’s clumsiness ended with Arthur. No more fooling around, no more subconscious acts. No matter how many times he fell flat on his face, it wouldn’t matter, because Arthur would be there to help him up. Together, they would make something real, something strong and solid. Something made of steel.


End file.
